Reincarnated as a Supernatural Horror Entity 023 - The Ironpile Mine

Jack still flew at his top speed. Out of Highcliff Town. His spectral eyes were looking for a mirror, a puddle, anything reflective.

The Mirror Room had already been his panic room. His chill zone. And now, he couldn't need it more. To get there, he needed a reflective surface. And, he didn't need to search long.

So distance in front of him, the stone bridge ca into view. Under the bridge, there as a slow-moving river. The water was dirty and polluted. But it was still reflective. Enough to reflect the weak starlight.

Jack triggered the [Bloody Mary's Mirror World] teleportation and slipped into his personal dinsion. The Mirror Room.

A sigh escaped him. It was ti to figure out the correct choice. Among the seven shown by the system's notification.

No. Actually, he didn't need to pick one out of seven. He had made a pre-selection analysis. Only two choices were suitable for him. It was either [Domain of Anarchy] or [Spirit of Judgent]. One out of two.

Jack gave himself a lenient ti to think. Now that he was out from Highcliff and was here in his safe Mirror, he wasn't in a hurry.

He floated in the room and considered the two choices. It took him about fifteen minutes before he finally made a choice. [Spirit of Judgent]. That was his choice.

And then... information about the power source hit him like a brick. His hunch was right. After picking this choice, his level up thod was fixed. He could only gain relevant experience by judging the target correctly.

He needed to reward the worthy and punish the guilty. What he didn't expect was... the system gave him new feature as the helping 'tool' to do it.

He had a new way of seeing the world. [System Sight Mode: Karma Detection].

Jack focused his mind on it. The system popped up another window.

[System Sight Mode: Karma Detection. A mode of vision that grants the host the ability to perceive the approximate karma values within the aura of every living being. Grey signifies neutral karma. While white and black signify positive and negative karma. Karma is the sum of the consequences, that the target actions in the past have, toward the society and environnt. Warning: Karma is not an absolute way to accurately asure the good or bad nature of the target.]

Jack chewed on that last part. It actually made sense. So real bastard's malicious actions could accidentally save the world. And a saint's good intentions might pave the road to hell. It was actually possible

Still, karma… it could be a useful general guideline. A quick overview on one's alignnt. Sure, it could be off. But probably not by much. Knowing that baseline was a huge advantage.

He called up his status panel again. That glowing transparent screen only he could see.

[CHARACTER STATUS]

[Na: Jack Night]

[Persona: Faceless Jack]

[Race: Formless Ghost]

[Archetype: Supernatural Entity]

[Power Source: Spirit of Judgent]

[Attributes: Physique (00) Mysticism (42) Passion (56) Essence (99)]

[Karma: Neutral]

[System Sight Modes: Information Panel; Fear Detection; Aura Detection; Karma Detection]

[Supernatural Traits: Nightmare Shapeshift; Banshee's Requiems; Poltergeist's Telekinesis; Bloody Mary's Mirror World; Draugr's Combat Instinct; Incarnation Shift]

[Personal Artifact: Grim Reaper Scythe]

'Still neutral,' Jack thought as he looked at his karma value. Not surprising.

...

Later...

Jack drifted into Ironpile Town in his invisible ghost form. The late afternoon smog in the air felt like a familiar sting in his non-existent lungs. It reminded him of Lotogear City.

It had been two days travel at top speed. After he darted out of Highcliff. After that disastrous incident in the museum.

And now, he had arrived here. He had landed in this grim and barren mining town. The only human settlent in Rockland Valley.

And just right after he entered the place, he realized it might be worse than he thought. The place was a powder keg. Ready to explode any mont.

He saw a large group of miners choked the main street. Their faces were grid with coal dust and simring rage.

Across from them, stood a group of thug-looking people. A neatly dressed, fat-necked man stood in front. He was probably the mine owner's mouthpiece.

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The man sneered. His words were razor-edged despite the distance. Jack could practically taste the frustration in the air. A dark, tallic tang.

'Bloody hell!' Jack thought as he watched the inevitable unfold. 'Should've gone for the Domain of Anarchy path.'

A riot was brewing. It would have been a symphony of smashing, looting, and general mayhem. He could've orchestrated the whole damn thing. A maestro of chaos. But he didn't choose [Domain of Anarchy] as his source of power.

Jack watched the rising conflict with interest. It seed that the miners were on strike. Unwilling to go into the mine. They were demanding the mine owner to investigate the brutal deaths in the mine.

There were six deaths the day before yesterday, three deaths yesterday, and twelve deaths just this afternoon. The miners did not dare enter the mines anymore.

The mine owner spokesperson arrogantly argued that the miners couldn't be paid unless they completed the work they already agreed in their contracts.

Suddenly, Jack felt sothing tugged at him. It was a prickling unease that overrode his inner anarchist nature.

It was the mine. It pulsed with a different kind of energy. A heavy, suffocating fear and rage.

Intrigued, Jack left the about-to-explode place. He phased through the throng of angry miners. Into the gaping maw of the Ironpile Mine.

The air inside was thick with coal dust. And also with the stale scent of damp earth. Deeper he went.

The sounds of the surface faded into a muffled drone. The tunnel was a claustrophobic maze of timber supports and narrow tunnels. The kind of place where accidents weren't accidents. They were just… expected.

Then he saw him. A shimring, translucent figure hovering near a collapsed section of tunnel. A ghost. He was huge and burly. With a thick beard that could house a family of mice.

Jack used his newly acquired [Karma Detection] vision. The man's aura was a dull grey, neutral. Well, at least he was not an evil bastard. He was just another poor guy caught in the gears of this brutal world.

"Boo!" Jack said. Appearing suddenly behind him.

The ghost nearly jumped out of his spectral skin. He whirled around. His eyes were wide with terror. "Woaahh! Gh... Ghost! What in the—"

"Relax, Mate!" Jack said, controlling his [Banshee's Requiems] hard.

He raised a hand in a gesture that probably ant nothing to a ghost. "You're a ghost too, aren't you? What are you afraid of? You're not the only one haunting this word."

The big ghost was speechless.

"Anyway. My na's Jack. Faceless Jack, a wandering ghost. What's yours?"

The big man blinked. He slowly regained his composure. "Johnny." He mumbled. Still looking spooked.

"So, why are you here Johnny?"

"I used to work here. Before…" He trailed off. Gesturing vaguely at his transparent form.

"Before you popped your clogs. Yeah, I get it." Jack nodded his spectral faceless head. "So, Johnny, what's got you all riled up? Besides the obvious being dead thing."

"? Riled up?"

"Co on. Ghost's emotions are very obvious. You are angry and scared. But I don't think you are scared for your life. So, what's wrong?"

Johnny's spectral brow furrowed. "They said it was a cave-in. An accident. The thing that killed and the others."

"They?" Jack asked, confused.

"The inspection officers." Johnny answered. "They lied. Many people will still co into the mine. My brothers. My son. They will be in danger."

"It wasn't a cave-in that killed you?"

"No. Not cave-in. It was... them."

"Them who?" Jack prodded, sensing a story brewing.

"Werewolves." Johnny blurted out. His voice was thick with fear and rage. "Many of them. Big, hairy bastards. They tore apart."

Jack raised an eyebrow. Or at least he would have if he had eyebrows. "Werewolves, eh? You sure you hadn't been drinking a bit too hard, Johnny?"

"I ain't lying!" Johnny protested. His chest puffed up. Though it didn't exactly make him any more intimidating. "I saw 'em! Big teeth, claws... tore right through ."

Jack considered this. Werewolves? In a coal mine? Seed a bit far-fetched. Even for this fucked-up world.

If he was in a ga, he would expect... Ding! Quest Obtained! Investigate the Werewolves of Ironpile Town Mine!. Unfortunately he was not in a ga now.

"Alright, alright," Jack conceded. "Let's say I believe you. How long have these… werewolf incidents been happening?"

"These three days."

"Before that?"

Johnny shook his head. "Never. Not once. Plenty of blokes get crushed, drowned, blown up… But never by werewolves. These days were the first ti."

That was… interesting. A sudden surge in lycanthropic violence? In a mine? Sothing seed even wrong-er than the three eyed rats in Highcliff sewers.

"Right." Jack said. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "First things first, Johnny. Let's get you up to speed on the whole ghost thing. Ever tried, say, not being seen?"

Johnny looked confused. "Not being seen? How?"

Jack grinned. "Like this." He focused his will, subtly shifting his own spectral form, becoming completely invisible against the dimly lit tunnel. "It's all about controlling your… essence, I guess. Try it."

It took Johnny a while. Involving a lot of frustrated grunts and muttered curses. But eventually, he managed to fade into the background. A faint shimr in the darkness.

"There you go." Jack said. He clapped him on the back. Obviously touching nothing. "Invisible Johnny. Now, let's go hunting so werewolves. Lead the way!"

"Where to?"

"Er... Do you rember where you were attacked?" Jack asked. "Any distinguishing features about the place?"

Johnny thought for a mont. "Yeah, I rember. Near the south shaft, just off the main tunnel. Close to a big pile of busted timber. Really strong sll of sulfur."

"Do you rember how to get there?"

"Yeah!" Johnny replied in confidence.

"Great! Lead the way, invisible guy."

"Um...," Johnny sounded hesitating. "Can you see , if I lead the way like this?"

Jack simply answered, "Nope. But I can feel you. Don't worry! Just lead the way."

Johnny led the way. Deeper into the mine. They moved through the tunnels. The silence was broken only by the drip, drip, drip of water. And the occasional creak of timber.

The air grew heavier. The sll of sulfur intensified. It was an acrid tang that burned in Jack's non-existent throat.

Finally, they reached the spot. The south shaft was a gaping hole in the wall. It was partially blocked by a jumbled ss of broken wood. The stench of sulfur there was almost unbearable.

"This is it." Johnny whispered. His voice barely audible. "Right here. I rember… I rember the teeth…"

Jack scanned the area. His ghostly senses were on high alert. Sothing was definitely off. The air crackled with an unseen energy. A primal, animalistic viciousness.